


Two Masters and a Psychopath Walk Into a Bar

by mysticpendragon



Series: the fam group chat universe [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bars, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Grinding, Selfcest, Sex Jokes, attempted murder but sexy, it's the master, master-typical stuff, the ships aren't terribly romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticpendragon/pseuds/mysticpendragon
Summary: Missy laughed lightly. ‘It’s quite intoxicating. Really, dear. At least you remembered that attempted murder is sexy.’A one-shot based on my Doctor Who group chat crackfic 'Fam (the group chat)'. River, the Master, and Missy go out for drinks. What could possibly go wrong? Except of course, for murder, attempted murder, the Master being the Master, and bets. But that's okay. When the Doctor's away, the Master will come out and play.Slight spoilers for series 12.
Relationships: Missy/River Song, The Master (Simm)/Missy
Series: the fam group chat universe [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622644
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Two Masters and a Psychopath Walk Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello reader! Just a precaution, this fic can be read on its own, but it makes much more sense if you've read 'Fam (the group chat)' up to chapter 6.

Eventually, they’d settled on drinks on a posh bar on Callifrax Minor (lovely little moon, if not one of the seediest criminal spots in the galaxy of Halabans). River Song had no idea how the Master and Missy were going to get there, but she was sure it wouldn’t be legal. While waiting for her drinking mates to arrive, she scrolled through the Fam group chat, smiling softly at the interactions between the Doctor and her new companions. She looked up as she heard the pop of a vortex manipulator.

‘You really weren’t kidding when you said you were coming disguised as River Song,’ came the disgusted voice of the Master.

‘And I can see why Missy always brings up your goatee,’ she shot back casually, enjoying the offended glare that crossed his eyes.

He looked her up and down. ‘So. Our new body. What does it look like?’

River smirked. ‘Well. I wear a  _ lovely _ bowtie – the Doctor really did rub off on us last incarnation. A long coat. Long, luscious hair. Good for seduction. Sometimes a fez.’

Ooh, she’d hit a weak spot. ‘Sorry, did you just say the Doctor  _ rubbed off _ on us?’

‘Mhm,’ she smiled.

The gun was pressed against River’s temple before she could say ‘spoilers’. It appeared that the Master had indeed come armed. Not that she was surprised; she had too. She whipped out her own gun and pointed it at the Master’s groin.

‘Shoot me and I’ll make sure you lose your manly pride and dignity.’

‘Nice to see my future’s in sane hands,’ he snarled, before bursting into laughter. ‘Do you get it? In sane hands? Insane hands?’

‘You’re so hilarious.’

‘Ma’am, sir, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to put your weapons in a different location. This bar has a strict “no death or injury” policy.’

The Master and River turned their heads towards the source of the voice, a well-dressed steward that looked like a Judoon had mated with a Sontaran.

‘Well, that’s rubbish. Say something nice,’ a voice, silky and seductive, said from behind the steward. To his twisted amusement, the Master saw Missy, pulling in the steward as if she were about to hug him, a vapouriser pressed against his temple.

‘I – please – spare me, I have a family –’

‘That’s what they all say,’ the Master said.

A dark glare crossed River’s eyes. ‘Spare him. They won’t let us in if we kill him.’

‘But that’s just no fun,’ Missy said. ‘I suppose that was nice enough. Ta-ta!’

She pulled the trigger, and the steward was gone.

In the back of her head, she imagined Clara Oswald and Jack Harkness vainly trying to argue that Missy had had a drink or two  _ before _ she’d gotten there. She pushed the thought aside as she, Missy, and the Master entered the bar. Music in a beautiful alien language flowed through speakers, as in the middle, all sorts of different types of species danced. It was dimly lit; the low lighting provided a mysterious yet exciting ambiance. Someone could die inside, and no one except for that dead half-rhino half-potato steward would notice. In short, this was the kind of bar that the Master would approve of. Inconspicuous. Chaotic.

‘So what are we starting off with? Something light? Dalek martinis? Or are we going straight to the heavy stuff?’ River asked as they sat down at the bar, perusing the menu.

‘Why, the Cyber liquor, of course!’ Missy said as if it were obvious. ‘We’re trying to get piss drunk, darling, not ever so slightly tipsy.’

The Master looked up from his menu. ‘We should order appetizers. They have some nice Dalek tempura. Looks appealing.’

‘Dalek tempura?’ Missy scoffed. ‘You want to eat food prepared by a  _ Dalek _ ?’

River was inclined to agree with her – for once.

‘Please. At least make sure their sucker is sanitised. I don’t want to contract the Dalek flu.’

And there went her inclination.

‘I request your orders,’ a Cyberman waiter said. River raised her eyebrow.

‘Three Cyberwhiskeys,’ Missy said. ‘Make ‘em heavy and sexy!’

‘Apologies. We cannot make your Cyberwhiskey “sexy”.’

Missy rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you’re a load of laughs.’

‘I would like to request a special modification to mine,’ River said deviously. ‘Lean in, please, dear. It’s a bit, how do I put it,  _ intense _ .’

The Cyberwaiter leaned in to absorb her information. ‘Add some cyanide to their whiskeys, will you? Adds a little kick.’

‘I cannot approve a request such as this –’

‘I’m their future self, obviously they’ll survive.’

She smirked as she watched the Cyberwaiter discretely slip some cyanide into her drinking partners’ Cyberwhiskeys.

‘We’ll also have your supposedly world-class Dalek tempura,’ the Master said as the Cyberwaiter set their cyanide-laced whiskey in front of them.

The Cyberwaiter nodded robotically and left to get their tempura.

‘So, I can’t help but notice you’ve gone soft, lady version.’

‘If you’re even remotely implying I have become “soft”, I’ll slit your throat after shots,’ Missy drawled.

The Master rolled his eyes. ‘Not you, idiot. The one disguised as River Song.’

‘I’ll have you know that being soft is the new sexy.’ She winked flirtatiously at Missy.

Missy winked back, and the two exchanged a series of winks that bothered the Master to no end.

‘If you two are done flirting, I’d like to get piss drunk,’ the Master said irritated.

‘Well, thank  _ God _ for regeneration, because you are boring me,’ Missy said. ‘She may look like River Song, but she’s doing it very sexily.’

‘You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,’ River said.

The Master sputtered. ‘I’m not – we’re literally the  _ same person _ !’

‘Exactly, then you shouldn’t be jealous. Plenty of self-love to go around.’

River raised her glass in a triumphant toast, taking a sip out of her own, non-fatal drink. She watched as the Master and Missy downed their own drinks. River watched in satisfaction as the cyanide coursed through them, their eyes widening in shock as they realised what she’d done.

‘Are you trying to kill us with  _ cyanide _ ?’ the Master asked angrily.

River merely smiled. ‘Perhaps.’

Missy laughed lightly. ‘It’s quite intoxicating. Really, dear. At least you remembered that attempted murder is sexy.’

‘Do you have to call everything sexy?’ the Master asked, disgruntled. ‘Of course, future me, you forgot that cyanide doesn’t kill Time Lords easily.’

‘I know. That’s why I had our Cyberwaiter put a heavy amount in your whiskey. Did you really think one of our drinking get-togethers wouldn’t be complete with someone trying to kill us?’

Their exchange was interrupted by the humming of Missy, who was singing some old Earth song. Her eyes travelled between the two of them, amused.

‘No, keep arguing. It’s amusing, even if I forgot the popcorn. Did I mention sexy?’

‘Stop calling everything sexy!’ the Master exclaimed, getting up abruptly to put a knife under her neck, knocking over their drinks in the process with his arm.

‘Kinky,’ Missy said, making a biting motion towards the Master. While they weren’t looking, River took a quick picture to send to the Space Gays groupchat later.

They were interrupted by their Cyberwaiter, who had brought the Dalek tempura to them. To the Daleks’ credit, it looked good, but River wouldn’t be surprised if it had been made from human or something. The Master and Missy stayed in their awkward position, looking towards the Cyberwaiter. River could picture the Cyberwaiter practically raising their eyebrow – not that they had one.

‘We’d like another round of Cyberwhiskey, please. No cyanide this time.’

* * *

By their fifth round of Cyberwhiskey, Missy and the Master were cured of the cyanide (sadly) and intoxicated. They were grinding against each other on the dance floor, Missy resting her head on the Master’s forehead, keeping a firm grip on her dagger, which was pressed against his back. Watching them from their bar table, River took a sip of her Ood mimosa. The Ood could get pretty wild given the right circumstances.

‘This is naughty, isn’t it?’ she asked as they continued their bizarre slow dance.

‘Yes, very,’ he agreed. ‘But if you think about it, it’s just masturbation. Or, well, Master-bation.’

‘Very funny,’ Missy drawled. ‘You want to take this to the bedroom, don’t you?’

The Master shrugged guiltily. ‘Yes. But then what would we do with our dear future self?’

‘Oh, leave her,’ Missy said. ‘Let’s just enjoy our time together.’

She took out her vapouriser and vapourised a few patrons, just for the hell of it, the Master following suit. Too distracted by each other and their senses dulled by the Cyberwhiskey, they all let the Judoon bouncers take them out of the bar – but not without a couple of Judoon casualties. River smirked, turning to the Cyberwaiter, ever so patient with them.

‘Looks like Yaz won. Anyway – here’s my number,’ she said, scribbling it down on a piece of paper with lipstick and passing it onto them. ‘I know you don’t feel emotions, but it could be quite an interesting night. Or not. I’m not Jack Harkness, you know.’

‘Your number is not required. Your payment is required,’ the Cyberwaiter said monotonously.

‘Oh, yes, that. Well. I’ll pay for it in the past.’

* * *

Jack Harkness’ old vortex manipulator landed on the ground in the Kassavin realm, completely spent and unable to get him out of there. Alone, the Master picked up the paper attached to the manipulator. His eyes widened in anger as he realised what it was – the receipt to the Masters’ bar night! How the hell was he going to get the Bank of Karabraxos to wire his money to the bar from tentacle hentai land?

‘Well, fuck me in the past!’

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know if you'd like to see more one-shots based on events from the chat fic! Except, of course, for Spokania – that's a story for later...


End file.
